Lily

Revenge. Vengeance. Retribution. She is the harbinger of these concepts.

A savior, and a bringer of doom.

Many would describe Sornieth as an open and accepting realm. However, when you scrape off the layer of generalities, a festering layer of rot can be found beneath. Dragons who are different- the young, the sick, the weak, the misfortunate- abandoned by their clans and kin.

Left alone, their death knell tolls.

So, she will appear.

Her routine is fairly unchanging. In the hours before a misfortunate dragon’s death, she will show herself to them.

The dragons she meets are often mere hatchlings- upset, weak, and terrified. As she appears, she will offer the dragon a gentle smile, then silently but determinedly approach them. A sickeningly sweet scent wafts from her fur, the scent of the lily. Her smile never falters, and yet her deep red eyes pierce the very souls of those she chooses to encounter.

The other dragon will watch her, transfixed by her sweet scent, her determined stride, her powerful aura. As she closes in on the dragon, she will stop, close her eyes, then open her mouth to speak.

“Dear one, I have a proposition for you. A barter, if you will.”

Her red eyes sharpen.

“Grant me the remainder of your lifespan. In return, I shall ensure that those who have harmed you shall never harm another. They will feel the same pain that you have suffered.”

In the yawning darkness of a wronged dragon’s final hours, it is hard to refuse such a trade. They lose what little they have left, and another makes a promise to protect those who still have so much to lose.

And they would both gain so much more.

Should a dragon reject her proposition, she will wordlessly leave them. The dragon will not hear from her again, and she will silently slip out of the forsaken’s already fading memories.

However, should the dragon accept, her eyes will once again sharpen, and she will utter a soft, “Very well.”

The contractee will slip out of existence, satisfied with the tacit knowledge of their first and final freedom, the survival of their rage, their vengeance. The silent Gaoler will smile as her body strengthens, her scent vitalizes, and her eyes’ red glow accentuates. Her body and soul shimmers, rejuvenated by the offering granted to her.

Then, she will set to work.

Perhaps she will use a curse, tormenting the dragon’s hated bloodline for countless generations. Other times she will unleash a relentless plague upon the contractee’s corrupt clan- decimating their group to nothingness. The strength of her retribution correlates directly with the strength of the will of the dragon she has recieved- the hotter their fury burns the more extreme her punishment will be.

Survivors of her wrath, intentional of course, always cite their encounters with the female gaoler as harrowing- they describe a large vengeful dragon bewitched by a menacing smile, reeking of the deadly sweetness of lilies. Her smile soft, but her eyes sharper than an Emperor’s bite.

Lily, the savior of the doomed, and the harbinger of it.

To those who have lost everything, she grants the power of anything.